Support Networks
by everworld2662
Summary: Quinn’s morning sickness gets three people’s attention. Quinn/Finn/Rachel, Kurt.


**Title: **Support Networks [1/?]**  
Author: **everworld2662/Ever1**  
Fandom: **Glee**  
Length: **Series of one-offs.**  
Genre: **Romance/Other**  
Pairing/Characters**: Finn/Quinn/Rachel + Kurt**  
Set: **Straight after episode 7, "Throwdown"**  
Ratings: **M**  
Summary: **Quinn's morning sickness gets three people's attention.**  
Warnings: **OT3 + 1, whatever that means; slash, het, nothing even remotely explicit yet.**  
Songlist: **_Keep Holding On_, Glee Cast

**A/N: **This wrote itself, so I'm almost inclined to say I'm not responsible for it. However, it turns out that I still am, technically speaking, so I'd like to apologize for any of the following: overuse of Quinn rolling her eyes; establishing an OT3 + 1 in under 3000 words; using the term 'OT3 + 1' and then not explaining it, because I am incapable of explaining it; not knowing anything about morning sickness except what Wikipedia tells me, then taking some liberties with it anyway; entering the fandom by writing _this _as opposed to some nice easy gen or canon pairing where I could have tried to get a handle on the characters before making them deplorably OOC; making a school cafeteria cook food at four-o'clock in the afternoon without explanation; using the English meaning of 'biscuit' in a North American school with North American characters, but I won't really apologize for that—etc., etc., etc. I'm sure you can fill in the blanks.

**A/N: **Also, I have no idea if Rachel is a good, high-achieving student, but _I _say she is. XD It fits her character too well.

* * *

The first time Quinn sprints out of a classroom mid-sentence, Finn is the only one who follows, throwing a worried backward glance at his teacher as he hurries from the room. Without looking at him, Quinn barrels into the girls' bathroom, and Finn only hesitates an instant before following. She doesn't make it into a stall, and he's grateful because at least there's enough room for him to hold her hair back if she's throwing up in the sink.

The fact that Quinn doesn't brush him off means more to him than it should, and as sympathetic as Finn feels, he starts to value these moments. In retrospect, the fact that his girlfriend trusts him enough to heave in his arms probably shouldn't make his heart constrict, but it does anyway, and who's Finn to question it? He can _do_ things for her when she's in that state; he can fix things: gather her hair away from her face, help her rinse it, dry the corners of her mouth and eyes with toilet paper. Quinn's morning sickness becomes something like a ritual. Roughly every other day, she gets that distracted expression on her face for a split second before she bolts from the room, upturning her notepad and knocking her pens to the floor. Finn has stopped taking notes in his morning classes entirely, watching her face out of the corner of his eye instead. She throws up, and cries, and pulls at the front of her cheerleading uniform, lamenting the fact that it's tighter than it was yesterday. Finn holds her, warms her fingers in his, and kisses the minute bulge of her stomach. He wouldn't trade it for a winning lotto ticket, or a football scholarship, or even the power to go back in time and firmly decline Quinn's offer to lounge about in the hot tub.

One week, Finn comes down with the flu. It's not all that serious, but he's always been a bit of a weakling about these things, and he's been really tired, lately. Exams are coming up and he's finally paying the price for never uncapping his pen in morning classes. The thought of lying in bed, toes curled in his sheets, flipping desultorily through notes borrowed off some football teammate is too tempting for him to resist, and he buries his head under his pillow and lets himself fall back to sleep. When Quinn bolts for the bathroom in 2nd period, she is gone for a full forty-five minutes, because it takes her that much longer to stop crying without Finn there to hold her hand. Luckily, the next class her stomach flips in is one in which Rachel sits in the back row, her hand permanently stuck in the air like some obnoxious, over-achieving flag. When she tries to hold her hair back one handed, gathered around the nape of her neck with shaking fingers, a slightly clammy touch takes over for her. She glances up in the mirror to see Rachel hovering over her, a brave smile plastered on her face.

Although Rachel doesn't help with the crying as much as Finn, Quinn doesn't hold that against her. It's probably because Rachel can't provide her with the same physical comfort as Finn can; it's not like they're dating, or even friends. Still, the girl does her best, sitting opposite her on the grimy tile and resting their knees together. When Quinn finally calms down, Rachel even has the kindness to offer her a hand up and walk her back to class, chattering cheerfully, as though that can somehow diffuse the total humiliation Quinn is experiencing. If anything, it makes it worse, but for some reason, when Rachel follows her down the hallway after a sudden doubling-over mid-stride on her way to maths class,Quinn can't bring herself to flip her off or lurch threateningly towards her shoes. She lets Rachel waste her time without objecting; it's not like she desperately to be in class, with that GPA, and as soon as Finn drags himself back into school, this awkward little scenario will become history, anyway.

Oddly, that's not quite the way it happens.

Before now, Quinn's never noticed how many classes they have together, the three of them. Apparently, they are in abundance: and somehow, whenever she feels an attack of nausea, either or both of them are on hand to witness her humiliation. And though she'll never admit it, she prefers it when it's both of them. It's just easier, that way. Finn does all the practical stuff, the hands on neck and washing her hair stuff, the gentle touch and the simple warmth of the front of his jumper, which he lets her rest her damp face against as though it's not going to leave a noticeable and probably uncomfortable patch of wetness behind. Rachel, meanwhile, talks her way through the entire thing, stringing one determined and over-chirpy word after the other, her eyes dark and unblinking in the bathroom mirror. It's irritating as all hell, but it keeps Quinn's mind off the fact that she's spent the last two periods emptying her stomach in a distressingly public place, that she has an intimate knowledge, now, of the tactile difference between washing slushy and washing vomit out of her hair, that she's going to start showing soon, that she can't do this, she can't possible do this, she's not strong enough, it's _impossible_—

One of Rachel's hands closes over hers, where she is clutching the side of the sink, and Quinn closes her eyes.

When Rachel and Finn meet her in front of school one morning with a Ziploc bag of homemade ginger snaps, however, Quinn's sure that it's going to be too much, that her threshold of tolerance has been hit, and that she'll dissolve into profanities. Instead she accepts them with a thin smile of thanks. They end up being early for Glee club rehearsal that afternoon, just the three of them, one big cosmic joke of a coincidence, and she pulls the bag from her satchel and nibbles on the corner of one of the biscuits. They're surprisingly good, and she offers one to Finn, who opens his mouth obligingly. Across from them, Rachel frowns.

"They're for _you_," she protests, her eyes fixed on Finn's Adam's apple, bobbing in a swallow. Quinn rolls her eyes. "To help with your morning sickness, I hear ginger's good for that—"

"They _are_ good," Quinn interrupts, shortly, unwilling to let Rachel get into one of her speeches. She plucks another ginger snap from the bag and brandishes it towards the other girl, glaring, in an attempt to cut her off. Rachel swallows an indiscreet smile, but doesn't take the proffered biscuit, and when her eyes dart towards Finn again, Quinn loses patience and pushes it against the other girl's lips. Automatically, Rachel opens her mouth, and her swallow leaves a slight dampness on Quinn's fingertips. Quinn withdraws her hand slowly, wiping it on the front of her uniform: theoretically repulsed but unable to summon the emotion convincingly. Watching her, Rachel chews quietly, almost guiltily, and doesn't look at Finn again until Artie comes in, the sound of his wheelchair breaking the silence more effectively than a marching band.

As much as Quinn hates the morning sickness, the weird bouts of nausea she gets intermittently in the afternoon are even worse, because they often hit during Glee rehearsal. She doesn't want to seem weak around these people; she hates seeming weak around _any _people, but _especially_ these ones. The fact that Rachel and Finn always take care of her when it happens makes matters worse, because she knows how much everyone in Glee needs them at practice. One afternoon, when they are dragged out of a particularly entertaining rehearsal for her sake, Quinn finds the strength to voice her frustration.

"Go back," she mutters into Finn's neck as Rachel hovers behind him, filling a plastic bottle with water from the tap. "Guys. Go back to rehearsal, the others need you."

Finn pushes her away from him slightly to look at her face, and she doesn't know what he sees, but it makes his forehead crease in naïve concern. Before he can speak, Rachel moves up to them, smile as forcedly brave as always, and proffers the water bottle. Quinn takes it with a sound of disgust and sinks to the floor, leaning her back against the wall. For a moment the other two just stare at her, and then they drop to the floor beside her, Finn sliding an arm behind her neck and Rachel curling up on her other side, upturned palm resting unconcernedly on Quinn's bare knee.

"I'm _serious_," she insists, between long gulps on water. She feels as weak as ever, dehydrated and exhausted by another afternoon choking up bile and crying. She blames the scent of food that wafts towards the practice room every Thursday at four, on the dot, inexplicably. "They _need _you. And I won't have you making things worse by drawing attention to the fact that I'm a pathetic weakling who can't…deal with this…by myself…" She breaks off, crying, and hating herself for it. Rachel turns her hand over and warm fingers press against her leg, while Finn kisses her shoulder and neck. It is enough to calm her down, and her crying has diminished to jagged gasping when all of a sudden Rachel's hand leaps away from her leg as though she has suddenly realized how inappropriate the gesture is. Vindication and disappointment surge through Quinn like a heat wave before she realizes that Rachel's expression is fixed on the bathroom entrance.

"Food cravings," Kurt says, stepping into the bathroom with mincing little steps. Finn abruptly pulls away from the crook of her collarbone, to stare up at where Kurt is advancing slowly towards them. Quinn feels cold without him. "Apparently, you're meant to accommodate them."

When Rachel and Finn don't say anything, Quinn sets down her water bottle, carefully. "I…beg your pardon." It is not a question, issued as it is from a mouth with corners upturned; indeed, she almost sounds like her old self, and this realization builds her confidence. She suddenly finds herself reaching over to Rachel, picking up the girl's hand, and placing it deliberately back on her knee.

"Your food cravings. That's why you've been throwing up every Glee rehearsal? _Please _don't tell me you haven't noticed. It's like clockwork, every four-thirty."

"Four-o'clock, actually," Finn corrects suddenly. His throat sounds dry and he's obviously uncomfortable, but Kurt barely spares him a glance. By now, he has reached the end of the room, where they are all sitting, and drops to the floor in front of them. It's a move that surprises Quinn. Isn't he worried about getting the seat of his trousers dirty? In other circumstances, she certainly would be.

"Well, four-o'clock or four-thirty, luckily for _you_, I happen to have some of what they were cooking in the cafeteria just now."

None of them have noticed till now, but Kurt's been holding a small blue lunchbox all this time, and he suddenly pushes it across the floor towards them. Quinn grabs it, automatically, and then the smell reaches her, and she pulls it onto her lap with embarrassing enthusiasm and yanks off the lid.

"Is that…is that a good idea?" Finn babbles, looking between Kurt and his girlfriend. "Giving her food that made her feel nauseous before?"

"See for yourself," Kurt answers, a little smugly, and Finn looks sideways, where Quinn is consuming a grilled cheese sandwich with unnecessary ferocity.

"Wa—wait a second." As she interjects, Rachel lifts her hand for emphasis, and involved as Quinn is in her meal, she makes a sound of annoyance in between mouthfuls. Finn and Kurt look towards her, and then back at Rachel, who continues, nonplussed, replacing her hand matter-of-factly on Quinn's knee: "That couldn't possibly be what they were cooking. Why would they be cooking grilled cheese sandwiches? Do grilled cheese sandwiches even smell strong enough to it to carry to the Glee practice room?"

Kurt tips Rachel a wink. "Well not for _you_, maybe," he concedes, knowledgably. "But it's a well-known fact that pregnancy makes women more sensitive to odours than usual."

At this, Finn makes the most frustrated sound Quinn's ever heard from him. She looks sideways, alarmed out of eating, and he musses his hair angrily, eyes fixed on the ground. "A well-known fact?" he repeats, sounding more despairing than anything. "How do you _know _all this stuff? I don't know _anything_. I haven't been any help at _all_—"

Predictably, Rachel is the one to interrupt him. "Finn. That's not true." Her eyes hold his for a ridiculously protracted moment and Quinn forces the same irritated noise from her lips as before. Both Rachel and Kurt jump, and when Quinn pushes the now-empty lunchbox back towards the boy with a curt nod of thanks, she notices that his cheeks are slightly pink.

"Well," Kurt says as he gets to his feet. He sounds, for the first time this afternoon, quite unsettled. "Well. I'd better get back to practice."

"So should _they_," Quinn says plaintively, throwing a look at her two seated companions. Rachel responds with a big smile, and Finn by seizing her right hand. Quinn rolls her eyes at them again.

"Thank you, Kurt," Rachel offers, tilting her 100-watt smile upwards.

"Yeah, Kurt." Finn agrees, clearing his throat, his gaze still fixed on the floor. "Thanks. I, uh, know it doesn't look like it, but she really appreciates it."

"I am here you know," Quinn interjects dourly, but Finn just squeezes her hand tighter while Kurt laughs a bit self-consciously.

"You're welcome," he says, briskly, and goes on, sounding much more like himself: "Quinn, if you're ever sick again during practice, I'd be happy to go get you some of whatever they're making. I have a _special relationship_ with one of the cafeteria chefs."

"No," Quinn protests, peevishly, but Finn cuts her off, his grip now a vice. "Thanks, Kurt. That'll be helpful." On her other side, hand pressed to her thigh now, Rachel makes a sound of agreement.

And that's how it starts.

* * *

**A/N**: I wrote this at 4:00 am last night, so if there are any typos/etc., please forgive me (but don't let that keep you from pointing them out!) C&C is appreciated, especially if of the gentle variety; I haven't written fic in a very long time and doing it again feels so good I suspect I am particularly sensitive to harsh criticism right now. But please, again, don't let that stop you.


End file.
